


Side Effects

by Erica_likes_to_write



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Ian, Post 4.12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica_likes_to_write/pseuds/Erica_likes_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian breaks up with Mickey and Mickey is beside himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Side Effects

Mickey hadn't seen Ian in two months. He still couldn't really believe that Ian had broken up with him after all they had gone through. And over his dick. Or rather, his inability to use it. Side effect of the medications. Most likely temporary. What the hell was he thinking? Actually, Mickey kind of knew what he was thinking. It was his pride. Despite feeling grateful to Mickey and his siblings for taking care of him, he was sick of feeling like a helpless child. He had been fighting those feelings. And he had been feeling better and getting back some of his independence. The dick thing was the last straw. He could barely look at Mickey after that and refused to make eye contact. Of course, Ian hadn't expressed any of this to Mickey. But Mickey knew. He knew Ian so well. Ian had silently packed his bags and when Mickey begged him to stay, he simply said, "I can't." And then he was gone. And Mickey was beside himself.

Over the next two weeks, Mickey was like a crazy person and the irony wasn't lost on him. He called and texted Ian at all hours despite receiving no response. He showed up at the Gallagher house on multiple occasions only to be told by Lip or Fiona to go away. He could see from their faces that they had sympathy for him. But Ian clearly hadn't told them his reason for leaving. And so they assumed that Mickey had fucked up in some way. Besides, Ian had made it clear that he didn't want to see Mickey.

During the third week, Mickey showed up drunk at the club where Ian worked. Spotting Ian giving a lap dance across the room, Mickey sprinted over and pulled Ian off the guy before beating the guy savagely until the bouncers pulled him off and threw him out on the street. The next morning, Lip showed up at his doorstep. "You gotta let him go, man."

Mickey ran a shaky hand through his hair, his head pounding. "I can't."

Lip lit a cigarette and handed it to Mickey. "What you're doing isn't working. Back off a little. Let him come back to you on his own."

"What if he doesn't?"

Lip shrugged. "Then you move on. What choice do you have?"

After the incident at the club and the visit from Lip, Mickey fell into a state of despair. He had never been so bad off before. But he was functioning. He got out of bed and showered every morning. He went to work and business at the Rub and Tug was booming. He played video games with Mandy and sometimes watched tv with his brothers. He hung out at The Alibi with Kev and the other guys but he was quiet.  
Every Friday night, he would show up at the Gallaghers front door, often quite drunk but sometimes not. It was usually Lip or Debbie who answered and the conversation would often go the same way. "How is he?"

"He's doing alright."

"He taking his meds?"

"Yeah."

"Good." And then he'd hand the Gallagher sibling an envelope with cash taken out of Mickey's cut from the bar. "Make sure he has everything he needs."

One particular Friday night, it was Lip who answered the door. "You look like total shit, man."

Mickey just sighed. "I'm missing your brother bad."

And then Lip gave Mickey the same advice he gave to Ian back when Mickey was engaged. "You need to get out there and fuck someone new."

But Mickey didn't want to fuck anyone else. And even though he was drinking more heavily than ever before in his life, he always went home alone at the end of the night.

After two months of misery, Ian reappeared. It was late on a Tuesday night and Mickey was upstairs at The Alibi. The last of the customers were starting to leave and Mickey was double checking the books. Business continued to go well and, for the first time in his life, Mickey felt somewhat financially secure. And it was a good feeling. After he heard the last customer leave, Mickey went downstairs. Kev was cleaning up behind the bar. "Hey, I'm heading out."

Kev had a strange look on his face.

"What? That fucker refuse to pay or something?"

Kev looked uncomfortable, like he was unsure whether he should say what he was about to say. "No, he paid. It's just . . ."

Mickey was growing impatient. "What, Kev? I'm tired. Spit it out."

"Your boy is here."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Ian. I only served him a few drinks but he's pretty fucked up. I'm pretty sure he's throwing up in the bathroom right now. Just . . . thought you might want to know. I mean, I'll walk him home. You don't need to . . ."

But Mickey was already headed for the bathroom. He found Ian on the floor next to the toilet. His eyes were red and wet. He looked skinnier than Mickey remembered. "Hey, you okay?"

Ian looked at him and it was obvious how drunk he was. His words were slurred. "Not so great, actually." And then he was puking violently.

Mickey knelt beside him and rubbed his hand up and down Ian's back as he puked and retched. It felt surreal to be so close to him after not seeing him at all for so long. And yet touching him felt so natural, like he had never stopped touching him. When Ian stopped puking, Mickey handed him a paper towel, his other hand remaining on his back, which was wet with sweat. 

"Thanks. I didn't even drink that much but I guess I don't know my limits with my meds." Ian sighed, wiping his mouth and then his sweaty forehead with the paper towel. "Dont think I've ever been this sick in my life." His words were still slurred and he was apparently too fucked up to stand.

Mickey grabbed him from under both arms and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you out of here." Ian was unsteady on his feet so Mickey put one of Ian's arms around his neck and tried his best to steady him. They hobbled out of the bathroom.

Kev looked concerned. "Mickey, I can take him."

Even though Kev was the practical choice to take Ian home since he towered over both of them, Mickey was adamant. "I got this."

Kev looked skeptical but a look of understanding settled on his features. "Okay. I'll let Fiona know he's on his way."

Mickey was pushing Ian through the door. "No, don't. I'm taking him back to my place."

Kev raised his eyebrows but didn't say a word.

The walk home was difficult and took forever. Ian had definitely lost weight and, although in the back of Mickey's mind he was concerned, in that moment, Mickey was grateful for it. When they finally arrived at Mickey's house, he had to practically carry Ian up the front steps before shoving him through the front door. Ian was really out of it. Mickey didn't think he had ever seen him so drunk.

The Milkovich house was dark and quiet and as soon as Mickey shut the front door, Ian was all over him. He wrapped his arms around Mickey's neck and spoke with their faces so close their mouths were practically touching. "Hey Mick, I'm a bottom now. Did you know that? I let guys fuck me now."

Mickey's entire body tensed as he lead Ian toward his bedroom. "Oh yeah? Who are all these guys you're letting fuck you?"

"Pretty much anyone who wants to."

Mickey's hands went into fists. What the fuck? Fiona and Lip were supposed to be looking out for him. Mickey pushed Ian into his room and pushed the door closed with his foot. Ian was still hanging onto him. He struggled to push his anger aside. He'd deal with that situation in the morning. "You want some water or something?"

"I want you to fuck me, Mick."

"Ian."

"Come on. You never have. Don't you want to?"

And he did. Badly. He pushed Ian onto the bed. "Yes but I can't fuck you like this. It's not right."

Ian was on his back and pulled Mickey on top of him. "Please."

Mickey looked down at Ian's face. It was scary how much he loved that face. He gave him a small grin. "I'll fuck you in the morning if you still want me to."

Ian looked into Mickey's eyes and suddenly looked serious. "I miss you, Mickey."

Mickey felt his eyes grow damp against his will. "Fuck. I miss you too. So damn much."

Ian touched his face. "I fuckin love you, Mick."

It was the first time either of them had said those words to each other. Mickey felt his heart pounding. "So come back to me. Where you belong." Ian looked pensive for a moment, studying Mickey's eyes. "Let me take care of you, Ian."

"You really want to?" And in his face, Mickey could see all the uncertainty and pain.

"Yeah, and you can take care of me too. I'm a fucking mess since you left me."

Ian nodded then responded softly. "Okay."

Mickey leaned down and his lips met Ian's. He kissed him gently but there was so much feeling in it on both sides. They broke apart and Mickey stroked his cheek, their eyes still on each other. Then, Ian turned his head, burying it in the pillow. "I think I'm gonna pass out." And then he did.

Mickey pulled off Ian's shoes and clothes leaving him in only his boxers and a tee shirt. Then, he did the same for himself before climbing in beside him and pulling the blankets up over them. Ian was still on his back and Mickey threw an arm over Ian's chest and moved in close so that their bodies were up against each other. Ian looked peaceful and Mickey watched him until his eyes grew heavy and shut. Mickey didn't know why things always had to be so fucked up between them. He didn't know why there always had to be so much pain. And there was so much shit that he would have to deal with the next day with the Gallaghers and Ian's medication and a million other things. But as he snuggled into Ian and really breathed him in, he knew they'd work it all out. Somehow, they'd be okay.


End file.
